


Promise

by AtoTheBean



Series: Ato's 007 Fest Fan Creations [9]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, polyamory day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 15:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtoTheBean/pseuds/AtoTheBean
Summary: Q didn't know what he was walking into when he got on a flight to assist on a mission.  But he can't complain...





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts).



> I did not mean to write this fic. I really didn't. It's all @boffin1710's fault. And he was really just minding his own business posting his own stuff for polyamory day of 007 Fest. But it was damned inspiring...
> 
> The characterizations are even based a bit on the descriptions in "Same, But Different" by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe) and Boffin1710.
> 
> I'm new to this particular pairing (pairing? tripling?), so I hope they don't mind I borrowed some of their thinking.
> 
> Fluff Table prompts: Raindrops and blankets

He had to fly, dammit. That was the worst part. He doesn’t mind chasing after agents when they get themselves in untenable situations, but when it’s clear that Bond and Alec are out of their depth with the rotating authentication on the security system, and he is needed _in situ_ before the entire mission is a loss, the only way to get there in time is to fly.

And he couldn’t take the _good_ drugs, because he needed to be able to think when he landed.

Which is why he started this hack with his neck and back already tense. That was hours ago. He’s been hunched over the computer without a break since, holed up in a hotel room with two alert and concerned spies, prowling the perimeter of the room like caged lions.

That’s unfair. All three of them are stretched taut, they just show it in different ways. Q remains focused on his task, doing his best to tune out anything else. Bond excused himself earlier to check the hotel perimeter again, and came back with food and tea, making sure Q wouldn’t be distracted from his task by hunger or weariness. Now that he’s back, Bond sits quietly in a chair reading over mission briefs. But it’s not a relaxed stillness, it’s intense and watchful, and Q has noticed Bond watching him intently several times, looking quickly back to his reading when Q glances up. Alec, on the other hand, is just constantly in motion — checking the guns and cleaning them, looking out the raindrop-streaked window. Keeping Q safe. They are both doing their best to keep Q safe and let him work.

It’s not their fault they’re so damned distracting.

He’s nearly got it sussed, though. He thinks. He rubs his eyes under his glasses again and reads over the code he’s written. Whoever designed this security system is very good. But nothing in computers is _truly_ random, though algorithms can be nested to make it seem so. Q has his own tricks for dealing with such things.

He stretches his neck, wincing at the twinge of pain. Bond looks up sharply, but before he can say anything Q feels a strong hand on the back of his neck, working out the crick.

He’d be embarrassed by the groan that leaves his lips if he weren’t so bloody wrecked. Christ, he needs a shag. Alec’s hand would not feel this good if Q made more of an effort to get laid every so often.

Then again, maybe it would.

Alec’s massage isn’t surprising, though. He’s a tactile man. He uses his hands all the time, showing friendship with small pats or an arm slung over a shoulder. Not very British. It feels good, but it doesn’t feel dangerous.

Bond’s appraising look, on the other hand, makes him shiver. There’s almost jealousy in his expression, though that can’t be right. Some silent communication is happening between the two agents as Alec’s hands move to his shoulders. Q is too tired or unfamiliar with them to make sense of it, but he’s seen that look on Bond’s face before. He’s taking in data, making a decision. And that _is_ dangerous.

“Are you nearly done, Q?” Bond asks.

“Patience, Bond,” he says stretching his neck again, but turning dutifully back to the computer.

“I’m not being impatient,” Bond insists. “I’m just getting worried about you. You’ve been at this a long time.”

“You agents,” Q says with a dark laugh. “Never appreciate the time we take prepping your missions. This is nothing unusual.”

“That’s not true,” Alec insists. “We appreciate it. I just don’t think James realized to toll it takes. Good god, your shoulders are a mess. You need to work a masseuse into the Q Branch budget.”

Q laughs. “I’m sure M wouldn’t raise an eyebrow about that,” he groans again as Alec gets to a particularly nasty knot, and Bond’s eyes flash. Q licks his lips and forces himself to look back at the computer. He actually reads the code out loud to force himself to concentrate, adding a semicolon he missed. It looks good. He sets it to run. And leans back in his chair, realizing that while he wasn’t looking, Bond had rolled his chair forward. Their knees are nearly bumping.

“You’re a bloody weeping angel,” Q accuses, startled to find Bond so close.

A smile quirks on those normally serious lips. “Spy,” he confirms. “How long will that take to run?” he asks, nodding at the laptop.

“Hours,” Q admits. “But it should have the codes worked out by morning.”

“Good,” Bond says, turning Q’s chair toward him and leaning forward to unfasten the top button of Q’s shirt, his eyes never leaving Q’s.

Q’s mouth goes dry. “What are you doing, Bond?”

“Assisting Alec. Granting him better access to your shoulders,” James says, undoing the next button. Q shivers again as Bond’s fingers brush along his collarbone. “Doing something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time,” James adds quietly.

“This can’t be a good idea,” he says, though the protest feels weak considering the obvious response of his body.

“Of course it’s a good idea,” Alec counters, hands slipping under Q’s shirt. _Christ_ that feels good. Q realizes he’s closed his eyes, and when he opens them, James gaze is even more heated. He swears those eyes could combust him on the spot. “Agents in the field need to let off steam,” Alec continues. “You can’t be at peak efficiency with all this tension.”

Q just shakes his head, laughing. “That’s the _worst_ seduction line I’ve ever heard out of you, Trevelyan. Are you saying you’re doing this for the _mission_?”

“No, lad,” he replies. “ _I’m_ doing this because I like you, and you’re lovely, and you’re tense as fuck. And because James here won’t make his move. I just thought that argument might appeal to you.”

Q looks back at James, who’s nearly finished with the buttons on Q’s shirt. He can’t hide that he’s aroused, but surely Bond will be reasonable. “This is a mistake,” he whispers.

“Why,” James asks, undoing the last button and pulling Q’s shirt open.

“You _know_ why.”

Because if it were just Alec here, Q may already be in the bed. A low-risk romp with Trevelyan would be fun, if unquartermasterly. But Q has _feelings_ for James. A bloody… _crush_... that both of them seem to acknowledge without ever discussing. And Q could get hurt.

Understanding crosses James’ face, but if anything, the heat in his eyes just increases. “It’s not a mistake, Q,” he assures. “We’ll stop if you want, but it’s not a mistake.”

 _James here won’t make his move…_ Is it possible Q’s misread James all this time. That what they needed was a… a friend… or whatever Alec is to James... to nudge them in the right direction? James’ hands are on Q’s thighs, but they aren’t moving — not like Alec’s that are actively trying to loosen him up. James is waiting. And god, he’s _hard_ and beautiful and everything Q has ever wanted. And all the while Alec’s fingers are roaming over his back, under his shirt, making him _want_.

He leans forward and rests his brow on James’ shoulder. “James,” he whispers.

Immediately, James has a hand in his hair and is pulling him back into a searing kiss, pushing his shirt off his shoulders with his other hand.

“That’s it, lad,” Alec encourages, peeling his shirt down his arms and off, pushing at his shoulders. “Go to him. Climb right into his lap.”

And then Q is straddling James, though he’s not sure if James pulled him there or Alec lifted him or he climbed up himself...all three maybe. James pulls Q’s hips against his own and it’s _fucking_ glorious.

“That’s it,” Alec says, dropping a kiss at the base of Q’s neck. “I’ll just…” And he starts to pull away.

Q grasps for his hand, pulling out of the kiss as all three of them freeze, panting. He looks back and forth at the two of them. “You’ve done this before?”

They share a look for a long moment. “We’ve come together before on missions,” James acknowledges. “On and off for years. But we’ve not done… _this_ exactly.” James looks intently at Q, brushes his fringe off his brow.

It feels wrong to exclude Alec now. “But you care for each other,” Q clarifies.

“We’re brothers in arms,” Alec agrees. “And sometimes in bed. I’m in deep cover too often for it to be more, honestly.”

Bond looks up at Alec fondly. “I think he’s the one person I could watch touch you without wanting to kill,” James acknowledges.

“High praise,” Alec says, grinning.

“Promise?” Q asks of James, nipping a teasing kiss as he pulls Alec behind him again. “I’d hate to be responsible for -6 losing an agent.”

James looks up at Alec again. Q can’t see them both anymore, but whatever is communicated seems to satisfy James. “Promise.” And with that, he pulls Q into a kiss. A moment later Q feels a warm chest against his bare back and another pair of lips on his throat, and he nearly arches right off James’ lap in response.

“Easy, Q” James mumbles against his lips, pulling his hips back flush against James tented trousers. “You’re the one who asked him to stay.”

Q whines as Alec nips at his neck and promptly decides that the fact that James is still wearing a button-down is _completely_ unacceptable. His fingers nearly tear at the buttons.

“He’s a live one,” Alec rumbles warmly against Q’s shoulder.

“Make yourself useful, Trevelyan,” Q orders, pushing James shirt open with impatience to find a bloody vest. Unfair, that.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Alec comments, hands moving to Q’s belt. “Christ, he’s going to boss us around here, too, isn’t he?”

“I certainly hope so,” James answers, rubbing his thumbs against Q’s cock through his trousers. “Lean back against Alec, Q,” he suggests. “I want to see you.”

Alec pulls him back against his chest, sucking at his neck. Q arches up and into it, eyes still on James.

“Christ, you’re lovely,” James says, almost reverently, rubbing a palm against Q’s cock. “You have no idea the things I want to do to you.”

 _Hnghh_. Q should have a snappy reply for that, he’s sure, but all he can do is throw an arm back around Alec’s neck and hang on as James rubs him. He’s going to come like this if he’s not careful.

“James, have mercy on the lad,” Alec admonishes.

“Hush. I’m savoring.”

“Savor him lying down in bed,” Alec insists.

Q can’t really add to this conversation, so just rocks up into James' hand with another whine.

“Both of you are so impatient,” Bond complains lightly, opening Q’s flies. “There, is that better?” he asks, slipping his thumb under Q’s pants and rubbing the bare tip of his cock.

Q finally finds his voice. “Bloody tease.”

“Now there’s something you don’t hear every day,” Alec chuckles, reaching around to flick at Q’s nipple. “James Bond, tease.”

“Pants off! Both of you,” Q commands.

“You’re right, these are orders I can get behind,” Alec quips.

“Literally,” James adds, helping Q stand on wobbly legs.

“Exactly,” Alec responds, holding Q from behind as James makes quick work of undressing Q and then himself.

And that’s how the fall into bed together after pushing the blankets onto the floor. James and Q facing each other, kissing, Q’s leg thrown over James’ hip and James’ hand wrapped around both their cocks. And Alec behind Q, warm chest pressed against his back, warm lips pressed into his neck, and slick finger exploring his arse.

“There it is,” James murmurs as Q arches into Alec’s touch. “Right there, Alec.”

It’s brilliant. Nearly overwhelming. Alec opens him up slowly as James strokes him. And though it’s Alec that eventually buries himself inside Q, it’s James he’s sharing breath with, who’s murmuring little encouragements to him and instructions to Alec, and who finally strokes them off together as Q just clings to him and breathes.

And later, when they’ve cleaned up and pulled the blankets around them, it’s James’ arms that are wrapped possessively around him as they drift off.

Q wonders how they’re going to make this work. _If_ they can make this work.

“Let’s get through tomorrow, Q. When your brilliant code gets us in and the mission’s done, we’ll work out the details.”

Q lazily rubs a finger along James’ arm, listening to the rain and Alec’s soft snores beside him. “Promise?” he asks.

“Promise.” 

And it seems there's quite a bit of promise, indeed.


End file.
